Dodge & Ram
by Any Unborn Child
Summary: Before the Battle City Finals, Yami no Bakura and Malik meet once again....


Dodge & Ram

BY Any Unborn Child

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing in YGO; if I did, the show would be rated MA and they'd be able to show it on Adult Swim.

Dark and dank…this described the basement perfectly. The musty smell of trivial floods and scented candles past blended indifferently, as if not really wanting to be intertwined but were anyway. Kind of like if someone didn't want to do something but took care of it nevertheless…

Bakura looked towards the left side of the area. Nothing but boxes neatly piled onto each other. He tried looking in the direction of the right this time; a table, a chair, and an empty space with wires plugged into a socket resided there.

_Who'd want to meet someone here?_ Ironically, he as a matter of fact was doing just that, meeting someone in the damp and last-resort type of floor in the building. Whoever this person was, they certainly had a weird taste in scenery; either this was a huge hoax or the human being was just a coward.

"Wherever you are, show yourself!" He shouted, echoes of his own voice bouncing off the walls like a hyperactive child who had too many Skittles.

Nothing. Huh-should've expected that.

"Where are you?! Show yourself, you fucking bastard!" He tried once more, the anger in his form growing increasingly fast.

Apparently that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. As if by magic, the electronic volts off of the wires ricocheted their way over to his direction, racing to see which one of them would kill him first. They were going a bit too quickly for his liking, but one thing managed to catch his eye…

_Wait…that's not electricity!!_

Soon enough, the speeding volts sprinted up his body, precise to prick at every nerve ending he had, sending him into a world of pain--it was like getting an acupuncture session from a serial killer, the volts kneading and gnashing their way to bringing the sensory system to overload. After about a kilosecond of that, he was thrown back into one of the walls, sliding down with a loud thump.

Shaking some of the torment off, Bakura peered at his surprisingly unscathed figure, and then at the wires. They were still dwelling in their little corner next to the table.

_Someone tried to kill me! _He thought angrily, narrowing his eyes in a mix of disgust and contempt.

"I see that you're true to your word, Spirit Of The Ring." A somewhat familiar voice rang in the namesake's ears. "You made it."

"Of course I did; why wouldn't I? Its not every day that you get attacked by free-thinking voltage sparks, especially in a dry place such as this…" Bakura spat out sarcastically.

The seemingly disembodied voice barked out a laugh. "Your droll humor surprises me; usually you're so serious."

This was getting both of them nowhere. "Would you kindly show yourself before I force you to?"

"Fine." The voice responded, a form stepping out from behind the boxes simultaneously. Now Bakura knew who the person was; there was no one else he recognized who had sandy-blonde hair, piercing amethyst eyes, and wore a –gech– lavender shirt with black jeans that stood out against a medium-built body and tanned skin.

"Malik Ishtar-what a surprise." Bakura said, faint bitterness in his tone of voice.

"The Spirit Of The Ring… I see you're still alive." Malik answered back. Though no signs of wickedness were in his vocal representation, there was a hint of a condescending manner to it.

"And kicking." Bakura stood up, dusting himself off. "What brings holier-than-thou to these parts."

Malik chuckled slightly, looking towards the side a bit. "Why, I'm the one who's going to corrupt the Battle City Tournament, if that's what you're saying."

Bakura raised an eyebrow, amused. "The Battle City Tournament? You can't possibly do that all by yourself," He scoffed. "You couldn't."

This brought back the other male's attention. "Oh-that's where you come in." Malik walked over to the left side of Bakura's body and stayed there, thinking to himself while saying:

"Oh yes Spirit, you are exactly the kind of help I need in order to get this plan into motion. Beautiful as you are, you can be the sarcastic type, but let's not let the negative overrule the good…it appears that you are diligent and very persevering, which means that if you were given an assignment, you'd get the job done fast and swift," Malik reached a hand out and played with a little bit of Bakura's unique snow-white hair, lacing it between his fingers. "And that would be very useful to me, if you understand what I'm saying. Do you?"

Bakura involuntarily shuddered at the latter's touch; by the tone of Malik's voice, this supposed 'mission' would contain more than just endangering the lives of others. Blah…this was unerringly why he spent most of his time alone--too touchy feely otherwise.

Malik smirked with intent. Unlike the Rare Hunters, Bakura seemed ready and willing to take up a challenge, if not an attitude adjustment be needed.

_Perfect…_

"So…" he began, removing his hand sullenly from Bakura's locks, "Will you take up on my offer? Will you be eager to wrap the whole world around your fingers, gladly doing whatever you please without any stupid scientists or idiotic religious officials telling you what to do? Will you be mine?"

Bakura furrowed his eyebrows, clenching his jaw in frustration. Malik's evocative words barged in his brain, revolting meanings of freedom and restraint staining his subconscious and his sanity. _Stop Tempting Me! Quit it! Stop it, you homo! _His mind screamed out, acidy words of disdain running through his way of thinking.

"Get away from me, you puppet!" Bakura stepped aside, his fists clenched and ready to smash Malik's face in if he got the chance. "You cannot tell me what to do, you twisted freak!!"

Malik's covetous expression stayed the same, unfazed from the outburst of emotion. "Think about it, Spirit. You'd be doing what you're best at—striking fear in the hearts of others. It would be absolutely stupid to refuse this offer. After all, we both think the government is doing a poor job, right? You would be giving them the nudge that they deserve…"

Breathing erratically, Bakura spat out, "You have no idea what I'm feeling! You're just assuming about what I'm thinking with that pretentious homo brain of yours!"

Malik chuckled once again. " 'Homo brain of yours'? That's classic!" He laughed even more, having to clutch his sides at one time while Bakura looked on befuddled. This continued for a few moments.

_Geez- it wasn't **that** funny, _Bakura thought. Almost as if timed, Malik immediately stopped laughing. Wiping a stray tear from his eyes, he replied, "H-h-h-how about if I make this interesting?"

The white-haired Spirit paused, considering the alleged fairy's proposal. "I'm listening…"

Malik dug something out of one of his jean pockets, a picture of some sort, and gave it to Bakura. The recipient looked at the photo, not exactly sure where the Egyptian was going with this. The picture was that of a girl, somewhere in her late teens, which had short brunette hair, sapphire blue eyes, fair skin, and a just frame complimented by jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. She was smiling a warm smile, one that wasn't too common for this day and age. She was pretty…very. But….

"Who is she?"

Malik grinned. "That would be Téa Gardener; 16 years old and –here's the fun part- the very bait that could bring the so-called Pharaoh to his knees. All you'd have to do is defeat the King of Games in a duel and she would be yours forever."

At that moment, the corners of Bakura's lips turned upward, which in turn meant that he liked the scheme more and more. "Mine forever, huh?" His tourmaline eyes rose up to Malik's heliotrope ones. "OK, I'll do it—but how do I get to her?"

"You would have to get into the Battle City Finals."

"The Finals?"

"The one and only…there are 8 openings only, so the space was very limited…but we've got some luck because the both of us are in this tournament, so that's been taken care of."

Bakura shrugged nonchalantly. "Works for me—less time to waste." He had to admit, he was extremely impressed with the number of flukes that have been acting up lately. Luckily he had his Locator cards already, thanks to the maladroit Ghost Kotsuzaka and his lackeys' stupidity. God knows where Malik got his, though. Oh well.

"As you may already know, the tournament required the best of the two fields to be in," Malik replied, licking his chapped lips slightly, "I guess you've outdone yourself…so, you're still in?"

Bakura grinned a toothy grin. "That's right, but uh…" He looked around the clammy basement for a moment, and then put his focus back to Malik. "Next time, try a less dark approach." He said as he exited the basement, leaving the fellow male to linger in the shadows.

Malik smirked once more. _He's just too fickle…_

**Owari!**

Note: This is my interpretation and my take on Bakura and Malik's meetings on the Battle City arc. I used Téa for a reference because in the series, Malik's Rare Hunters abduct Téa and Joey and as we know, tries to use them against Yuugi, so this would lead up to it.

FYI: I'm not a homophobe; I just used 'homo brain of yours' because it was funny.

Ja ne!


End file.
